i don't know if i made the right decision. perhaps i was too quick to decide. which happens to be my greatest ffault. my impulsive nature, always wanting things now. i want to be ok right now. "it's for the best" i whisper to myself at night. read the book, forget about it. get coffee with friends you rarely see. in this town you're all alone. but please remember me. i should have just left. we should have just drove to oregon. God I'm 18 and i am full of regrets. I don't say things i mean. I'm sorry. I wish. I wish. Oh god, how i wish for things. Life has just bogged my mind down. Why do I plan to go to college when i have no idea what the hell i am doing. Why throw this time away with school, when unhappily I will have to make a decision to do something with it. my misery.
I want to throw up. my impulsive nature is saying, life is slipping away. you're wasting time. go, please, just go. if you stop, so will the world. and I write this and immediately regret thsi. you're a drama queen. i hear a knowck, or the dogs are barking, so i run up the stairs, look out the window and look for the lumina, for my mistake coming to fix itself. if i sat in a chair in front of a man in that white coat, and he looked at me, could he fix me. could he tell me what the hell i need to do. or give me medication to help me solve the problems on my own. God used to be my man in the white coat, but i can't talk to him anymore. my father used to be the man with the answers and now he is just someone i keep the peace with. my poor mother, shunned from my world. i can't let her know, would she really understand, or would she just tell me that i am a fuck-up and i did it. i want to live the life now. passionately, without fear, or the ridiculous obligation that follows me like a ball and chain. my guilt eats away at me. please just be happy with what i can give you. i can't give a lot, i must give a fair share to everyone or no one. i wish i could give you more. but i can't. i physically can't. i wish i could just go. i'm so dependent. my coffee sit untouched. cigarette butts all over my car. oregon. every one has a place that means something to them.mecca, isreal, oregon.
i want to hide this post. but it doesn't give me the satisfaction. the chance of a random person commenting on it, saying things that will hurt, or offend, you a piece of comfort, only as much as typed words from strangers can give you.
why can't i just call you, leave my job, and go cross country.

i'm sorry for the mess i made of myself.

i felt so full, heavy, a bloated mind.too much to think. so after having something terrible for me and a milisecond cry, along a 5 minute drive. I returned to the composed side I had been lacking for the day.
SO note to oneself: go for a drive when things are full.

full

i hate waiting. waited for alli two days ago, for three hours, ended up it was too long and i had to leave due to traffic. last night, i promised to stay up for beth, six pina colidas later... no call no show. and now another wait, to hear from joe, which even when i do hear from him he will make a suggestion to go to a place that i really don't want to be, but i really don't want to be here either.
the tension is so palpable i could chew on it. the only thing that's heard is the bird's chirping. my father's furrowed brow is loud enough, words i suppose aren't needed.
been there done that. i'd really rather just avoid you than hear that speech.
i'd really just like to avoid everyone.

there was a brown praying mantis on my apartment door, just after making a huge difficult decision. he was completely still trying to blend with metal.

doesn't that mean good luck?

hi all.

so now having so much trouble with this school,my mother tells me i should look elsewhere in majors and careers besides the arts.
i love the arts...but perhaps my mother is right.

so after watching bravo, i kinda lookking at real estate? is that weird? probably...but anyways the outlook is faster than average, and schooling could either be between 3 weeks to only 2 years, then you go straight into your career. and if i got a mentor i have a better chance at being successful.
i'm not giving up on photography yet, but it would be smart to also loook into other careers too.

its so hard picking out a career. especially when i am spending 30,000 dollars to a school that isn't teaching me anything thats directly related to my major because of a freshmen year requirements.
plus even if i leave my major, photography will always be with me anyways. it's something i could never really give up.
lee what do you think?

chroma glow

i'm the girl on the escalator going the wrong way. the one who can't swim and ended up in the deep end.
my mother thinks that the arts aren't for me.

then i honestly don't know what is.
i was sure that photography was.

how come in this school, to be a photographer, i have to be a painter and an illustrator also? my parents probably think i'm a failure. and my cash flow is insanely low. he doesn't call or even answer my calls.

this is me in a pit of depression. i have a painting class next... which i enjoy to paint but hate the critiques. I know mine isn't the best compared to everyone else, but compared to what i have done and my abilities its my best. and if my best isn't good enough, well i just don't know what i can do.

all i want to do is travel. thats it.


goodness i wish i was a smarter person. i make stupid decisions and overestimate myself. time and time again.


my life is too real. far too real.

Catch-up

I can't write long. But I would love to. I decided after class to go get a sandwich and coffee and sit behind the big window in front of the cafe. I watched students flutter by in the rain. Trying not to get their projects and sketch-books drenched in the rain. The good thing about CCAD is there are plenty of huge windows to just daze into and watch the world.
Especially when I need a break.

I'm a bad student. Bad.

Well all I know is that i came into the computer lab to do a project and have ended up on blogger. yet again.
My painting class takes too much out of me to do any work beforehand.

It looks like at this school, everyone is trying to play catch-up. We weren't ready for this world, we were already behind. Always playing catch-up. I know I am. This is due tomorrow, so i can't do the homework for today. The vicious cycle takes a toll on the art students, the standards and cookie cutter techiniques would rip out the soul of any creative young thing.
But it's good for me. I haven't gotten my artist soul yet. hehe. I am in the process of creating one. I don't have much techinique anyways, but I know a few mournful alumni's that miss the way they used to paint, the old ways of drawing, the amatuer youthful style which has become traditional and clean cut.
she tells me she can never get it back.


sad story. but like i said before...i don't draw or paint, so i suppose this is good for me to atleast have one. I'm not picky.

No internet in my place for 5 weeks. That's hard. Let me tell you.

Numbers

I am beginning to understand a little tiny fraction of myself. In this day and age, you must be quick on your feet, fast paced fast thinker. The world roars 'go', as i stand still, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to act. I am by no means anal or a perfectionist. I like to go slow, I like to relax, and I like to handle things at a speed where I am most comfortable and I can truly understand the thoughts that wave in my head. New ideas to be tossed actually is a long process for me.

SO why in the world would I try to take on more than I can handle. Some would call me stupid or far too slow. But it would be stupid of me to do too many things, and create anxiety that doesn't need to take place in my future life-time. And if i can prevent that, by all means I will.
This is my own explanation of why I dropped my 3D class.
Basically my mechanics suck, and i truly cannot handle an 8th class to the schedule. Sorry CCAD, cannot and willnot try.


I have also recently discovered that the graduation rate at Columbus College of Art and Design is quite the meager number.
49% of students will graduate from CCAD. This is apart from the 41% who drop out or transfer to a different school after their first year.


If I was the school, I wouldn't be promoting those statistics.





Either way, life is too short for me to be stressed out over classes that aren't of any specific interest to me. I will take things slow, completely understand , and do things the way things should be done for me.

I find no stupidity in that.

Numbers

I am beginning to understand a little tiny fraction of myself. In this day and age, you must be quick on your feet, fast paced fast thinker. The world roars 'go', as i stand still, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to act. I am by no means anal or a perfectionist. I like to go slow, I like to relax, and I like to handle things at a speed where I am most comfortable and I can truly understand the thoughts that wave in my head. New ideas to be tossed actually is a long process for me.

SO why in the world would I try to take on more than I can handle. Some would call me stupid or far too slow. But it would be stupid of me to do too many things, and create anxiety that doesn't need to take place in my future life-time. And if i can prevent that, by all means I will.
This is my own explanation of why I dropped my 3D class.
Basically my mechanics suck, and i truly cannot handle an 8th class to the schedule. Sorry CCAD, cannot and willnot try.


I have also recently discovered that the graduation rate at Columbus College of Art and Design is quite the meager number.
49% of students will graduate from CCAD. This is apart from the 41% who drop out or transfer to a different school after their first year.


If I was the school, I wouldn't be promoting those statistics.





Either way, life is too short for me to be stressed out over classes that aren't of any specific interest to me. I will take things slow, completely understand , and do things the way things should be done for me.

I find no stupidity in that.

the city slumbers

the city isn't big but it sure is lonely when you're out there by yourself. i guess things will change by tomorrow, because if they don't i'm not going to stay here long.
my apartment is the kind of apartment you would imagine a starving artist living in. so i guess we mesh, the apartment and i. i tried to make it nice, with the stained antique chair that also happens to be broken. 780 dollars worth of supplies lying all over my floor. i have no where to put it. along with my sanity.
perhaps i really am insane.
i havent had the internet for a good week. found the library. it's quiet here. it's quiet in my apartment. the city is a quiet one.
i can't go out at night, because there are hobos in the park which is only a few buildings down. people get jumped i'm told. and a young girl like myself shouldn't go anywhere by myself.
i am going to make myself potatos tonight. a comfort food that is always appreciated. says my stomach.


here it is again. nothing to blog about except food and a couple oddities that spring from the mind.

i told someone a few days ago that i had no imagination. i cried later repeating the words," I do have an imagination."
i was just trying to convince myself.

instead of going out on a friday night i stained, painted, and cleaned my furniture for the new apartment.

i'm obsessed with my new old vintage chair, ripped the old stain off, cleaned off the gooey grime and stained the beautiful wood arms. looks good. now i have to clean the pads.

i also have a huge lamp that stands about 4 ft. looking like it was from the 30's. brass round bottom. gorgeous.

and painting ugly old dressers. oh well i am excited.


this is my life

i hate going through the motions. every morning is a routine.

my car died, which throws a wrench in the usual. i got an apartment for super cheap close to my college. do polaroids have black and white film? they probably do.

i'm starting to freak out. this whole new situation equates to some harsh anxiety.

i got my tattoo. no pictures quite yet. sorry dear lee.

someone asked me at our vegetarian barbeque if i was an only child. i told them "no but I am the only sane one" which is a lie. i've come to the realization that i am as wacko as the next, i just may be able to hide it better.

i will finally live on my own. no one else. just the city and i.

i'm off to hide in the real world, doing real worldly things, such as working and fixing my car.

The coffee is churning in my stomach. I just want to listen to the beatles and smoke my cigarettes. But I have one left and the song I want to listen to is not on my computer. Early mornings and late nights drive me through the roof. emotional uproar. I see myself as all these different ideals, i can't choose one so i am them all. a mess. i have a tatoo. of an orange tree and black birds. sitting on the porch i got to watch one eat their breakfast. perhaps a sign. banana pancakes. why has the bachelor degree become the diploma? how come I am spending 120,000 dollars to have a job that will never be able to pay back? and why does it take to get money you must spend some. i will not make it in college. i do not draw neither do i paint. these ideas come to me but i have no abilities. no motivation. i close my eyes and look into the sun and i see a mustard yellow sky with dead trees. perhaps it's the desert or perhaps my soul. dried up. polaroids. black matte board and a series of six. alone in the house with only franny and zooey to provide company. anthem. worldly. indian. european. california. she does acid now. nicotine and caffeine. what a cliche. 2 weeks then ten days until i leave. i'm looking through you, where did you go. mail man where are you. where are the messages on my answering machine. where is my apartment. where is tennesse and kentucky. brush strokes and orchids. the dandelions may just swallow me up. the oranges are falling from the tree. drop drop drop. the orange doesn't fall far from the tree. where have i fallen. where was my mother. unstable sunken eyes. 100's, super longs. virus on my laptop. what a party. so hollow, empty. the familiar faces, only acquaintances, i must drive drunk one says. what big eyes you have grandmother. individuality is a lie. something the artists do to calm their nerves. set yourself in denial. ms. ono did you break up the band? let it be. this is not my time. and neither was yesterday or tomorrow. oh pyschologist what part of the brain do you find me. i'm not on the map. i'm in the mustard yellow desert. with rasberry dessert. green grapes. orange melon. blackberries off the vine that climbs on the fence next to our garden. we left our garden for a small plot of land and a box to live in. i want to shave my skin of and find the real me. you hate my tattoo. i hate your cuts. look around you, this life was not meant to be a tragedy. if you want to be miserable to find happiness you life will be on a dead end road. there's no outlet deary. dreary. hot and muggy. the album is white. the vinyl is blue. the cd's are pink. here comes the sun. everyone's gotta learn sometime.

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it's there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you


such strong words. i don't mean it. really. surburbia you are eating me alive. there's no damn good place here. where can i take your photo? no where. where is elise. or candace. or whoever the hell i am. turn the lights off and go back to bed. do the laundry and eat your pancakes. i love you.

i think i want to get a tattoo.

i had joe sketch me up an orange tree and two black bird flying from the branches. I've had many dreams about oranges or orange trees.

anyways it looks really nice.

the winter's breath

i really hope i don't work today.

currently i am reading franny and zooey. perhaps i don't have much to say anymore because i haven'tread anymore. there's something to discuss thats better than " i don't know".

my faher and i used to have conversations when i agreed with him. Now I am constantly insulted and even a little ignored until his guilty conscious eats away at him. Lately I am a "communist" or better yet a "fascist" because i have gone vegetarian. Today he told me "I didn't know I raised Gandi." in a very negative way. Which personally to me doesn't make sense because he was a good guy.

Then again I don't think i should let any of this bother me because my father used to tell me when I was little, " You don't want to play soccer. Soccer is a communist sport."

And my mother just sits there on my father's side because she has nothing to say and much rather be angry and miserable in her life than just support her drama. My family lives on drama.

After feeling very alone, i imagined myself curling up so tightly into a ball that i turned into a period mark in the sentence. I don't say much, but i finish the sentence. I just want to finish.

i wrote a poem a long while back. I have only allowed one person to read, who happened to love it. Unfortunately I know for a fact that joe would hate it and probably tell me it was ridiculous. I've wanted to post it, although it's unfinished but my insecurities hold me back. its ok if i'm not a poet. really. it is.

i miss the winter's harsh night air. where it slightly hurts to breathe but you can feel it in every bone.

and the devil says call me outside,
I'll come running down into the vacant, intoxicating night,
call me outside to their haunted streets, their red electric lights,
I'm on the sad side of a nowhere town,
but sister I'm all you got so call me outside,
I'll come running down 

First fry up onions, green peppers, mushrooms, throw in a little bit of garlic garlic seasoning. Cook until tender and smelling yummy! Put on a plate with cover. Next take 2 eggs, a tad of garlic salt, and a capful of milk. Scramble up. Put scramble eggs in spinach wrap and top with vegetables. Add some salsa and sprinkle on some mozzorella cheese. Eat with tortilla chips

My lunch. Delicious.

I think I need to go to a doctor. For these reasons:

A. I think I have vertigo.
B. I think I am going slightly insane.


And by B. I mean, my thoughts have become cluttered, I don't think actually have one clear thought left. It's a jumbled mess. And when i get upset, it's an overload. I hyperventilate. My throat closes up. My mood is shot for the rest of the day.the first problem leads to other things that have bothered me but decided to ignore
Perhaps my confidence is at an all time low. Perhaps my stress is at the high. I'm on edge. Don't push me over. I won't come back.


“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
J. Kerouac

keep a jar handy

i want to use my charcoal. The ones that sit on my shelf collecting dust and ideas that go unused.




capture the fireflies.

wailings of the wind

I awoke this morning to my puppies horrific wailing, and for being half-awake, i probably haven't ran that fast in a long time. she's okay now. she just ran into a wire that most likely caught her neck and got scared.

a girlfriend of mine wants me to go on a fast today. no food at all. too "clean" ourselves. Here are the things we are allowed: coffee, water, and cigarettes. (?)cleanliness and cigarettes don't really match to me. no gossip or cursing either. which i like the idea.

my birthday is tomorrow. i work. no big deal though. i really don't have anything planned and no one else does either.

what do people think of me? a constant thought that runs through everyone's minds. even lee's :) . i know some people find me strange. other's quirky. but he finds me plain.
i dont think it will matter in the end, although it is interesting to find out.

got some college stuff today. i have about 8 weeks... I'm a little nervous. a plain piece of paper with a little note saying we must do a self-portrait. we can be as creative as we wish but it must be mounted, this is a tradition of the school.
so immediately i began to freak out, to overthink the whole process. where to begin. what do they consider creative. what other people are going to do. i can't really draw or paint. i'll look like an idiot. the thoughts of why the hell am i going to art school ran through my head.

a strange idea came to my mind and a grin to my face. i think i know what i am going to do. i'm not for sure...but if i do i'll let you know.



oh the wind will not blow me down.

i'm letting the dust settle

green. jade. colour me jade.

being up so early doesn't really bother me any more. I get to sit here sipping coffee and eating a banana while surfing on the internet. my thoughts are collected. i feel calm and peaceful.
being a barista is not hard work. but flawlessly, arabica management can do the job. The job is easy and unfortunately no matter where you go, the drama will follow.

I wish i was more laid-back. It shouldn't be stressful but I allow it to get to me. None of it really matters. I walk through the dining area hearing people discuss their companies relative probability, a woman gossiping about her neighbor's relationship with another male neighbor that seems somewhat inappropriate. And yet I it here and think about my puppy, and how i may find all the others thoughts insignificant, when mine are the same to them.

Sitting at my favorite thai place, my friends were chatting about the boy that one had found attractive. Beth had already made a move towards one guy the last time she came, so she was only interested in his attention. The other girl had found another guy quite attractive, but being too shy, she slumped into her chair as soon as I called him over for more water. As she left for the bathroom, we called the guy over and asked if he wanted her number. Bold, in my opinion, but he wanted it, so we gave it.
That's when my self-pity set in. Everything slowed down, my words, thoughts, and motions. The same thought rolled into my head, as it had so many times before.
And I sit here, feeling ridiculous. So i'm over it.


everything has changed, a sickening comfort zone has washed over. a neutral zone. perhaps this is just a "maturing" relationship, but it is heading into a zone I never wanted to be in. we have settled. I have settled. and I am told repeatedly that i will never find what i want, and if i do i will still find flaws and give up. give in. settle.









i am off to make coffee for the world. you should visit.